


Empty As That Beating Drum

by cloverfield



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: Body Swap, Consensual Vampirism, M/M, Post-Series, magical mishaps, vampire kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:14:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22130662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloverfield/pseuds/cloverfield
Summary: “The important thing is not to panic, remember?” The mirror lifts, and when Syaoran tips it up so that Kurogane can see himself, he’s already half expecting what he sees even as it shakes him to the core.“Well,fuck,” says Kurogane.
Relationships: Fay D. Fluorite/Kurogane
Comments: 4
Kudos: 45





	Empty As That Beating Drum

**Author's Note:**

> B-b-b- _body swap_!

“Kurogane-san. _It’s very important that you don’t move_.”

It’s the whispered urgency in the kid’s voice that keeps his eyes closed, even as instinct screams _move! move! danger!_ and Kurogane holds himself still with difficulty, tension buzzing through his limbs and something hot cramping in his belly at the thought that he is lying prone and vulnerable beneath some unknown threat.

“Don’t panic,” continues Syaoran breathily, sounding like he needs that advice more than Kurogane does. “It’s really important that you _don’t panic_. Can you open your eyes now without moving?”

The movement is slow, as steady as the shallow breath Kurogane takes against the weight on his chest, and the world swims into focus: dark shadows that coalesce into the wooden beams of a roof, the abstract flutter of a curtain at the corner of his eye, the kid’s worried face.

“The hell are we?” Kurogane mutters, and even to his own ears his voice is raspy, thready and thin.

“An inn,” says a different voice suddenly, and Syaoran’s face pales as he turns to look at the corner of the room, catching the gaze of the man unseen that must be there, and something in Kurogane’s head twinges at that voice, those words. “You’ve been unconscious for a few hours now, Kuro-sama.”

 _Fai_.

“Mage,” says Kurogane, his voice as even as he can make it (which isn’t much, apparently, his throat catching and the tone of the words rasping and strange), because Fai’s voice is anything but, thick and angry and _guttural_ in a way he has never heard before. “There a reason you’re sitting out of sight?”

A sigh, and that sounds more like the man he knows. “I told you he’d catch on quick, Syaoran-kun.”

“Um,” says Syaoran, and his hands flitter about the blankets pulled up to Kurogane’s chest, his face still pale. “The important thing is not to panic, remember?” That weight on Kurogane’s chest lifts, revealing itself to be a mirror, and when Syaoran tips it up so that Kurogane can see himself, he’s already half expecting what he sees even as it shakes him to the core.

“Well, _fuck_ ,” says Kurogane, through _Fai’s mouth_ , and slitted yellow eyes burn at him from that pale face where the glass catches their reflection.

“Got it in one, Kuro-sama.” Fai’s voice sounds unnaturally deep for him- which makes sense, because if Kurogane is currently occupying a skinny, feather-headed wizard then logistically speaking Fai must be stuck in _his_ body somewhere across the room, and that’s _his own voice_ Fai is speaking through.

Which. Which he has some questions about.

“You have _blue_ eyes,” is the first thing he blurts out, because Fai _does_ , and the eyes that Kurogane is looking at himself with are golden in the glass, vampiric and hungryand- _oh_. That’s why his stomach is cramping, a shivery kind of heat that flutters in his chest and makes his throat sore. _Shit_.

“My _magic_ is blue,” corrects Fai, still out of sight, but cloth rustles as he stands, his movements sounding a little clumsy in a larger frame. “And when we… swapped… my magic came withme, leaving the vampire blood behind. Any minute now, Kuro-sama, and it’s going to hit you.”

“Which is why you need to stay really still,” says Syaoran hurriedly. “This isn’t your body, and you might not be able to control yourself. No one wants to get hurt.”

 _Hurt?_ thinks Kurogane, and maybe he should be a little at the brat’s apparent lack of faith in his self-control - fuck, Fai’s transformation into a vampire was just as sudden and hehad enough control over his hunger to starve himself half to death in Infinity, so why would Kurogane have any less - but then Fai comes close enough that he crosses some invisible line, and his _scent_ hits Kurogane in the face like a slap, roaring down his throat and twisting his guts in a tangle of aching need.

Without thinking about it, this body jerks upright, Kurogane’s thin arms shoving at the tangle of blankets as he struggles out of them. _He needs. He needs_. It pounds in his head like a drum, incessant and beating, the hunger in its echo flooding his mouth with fire.

“I’m going back to my room,” squeaks Syaoran urgently, and the mirror hits the bed as he drops it, bouncing on the mattress. “Mokona and I will check on you in the morning-”

“ _Go_ ,” says Fai, and his voice - Kurogane’s voice, from Kurogane’s mouth and Kurogane’s chest - is like thunder. The door slams.

Kurogane’s feet find the floorboards, rough and bare beneath them as he rolls out of the bed, and his body jerks like a puppet as he staggers upright- but there is his body with Fai inside it, standing across the room; his own familiar face with eyes hot and _blue_ and strange staring back at him.

Kurogane watches himself - _watches Fai_ \- swallow, throat bobbing with the motion, and suddenly the veins that trace unseen beneath dark skin are as visible and bright as red-hot lacework, pulsing and delicious in a way that makes his mouth water. His teeth hurt; his tongue is thick and heavy, his throat parched.

“I didn’t know it was this bad,” he croaks, and his ribs squeeze. Talking hurts. Everything that isn’t pushing himself across that room to take that throat in his teeth and bite it slow, slow ( _drink and drink and drink_) hurts.

“You get used to it,” says Fai mildly, and the expression is strange against the sharpness of his borrowed features, enough that Kurogane can’t make out what it means. “It was like that in Infinity, but lately it’s not so bad.”

Lately means _after we stopped treating each other like enemies, after everything was over and sacrifices were made, after we fell into love and fell into bed in that order, after you let me bite you every place I wished and cried out for the touch of my teeth in your yielding skin_ and the unnamed fear that tightens Kurogane’s heart eases more than fractionally.

“Come here,” says Fai, and Kurogane didn’t know his voice could sound so gentle. “I know what you need, Kuro-sama.”

His hands, _Fai’s_ hands – thin and clever and scarred - are shaking as he makes his way across the room, bare feet catching on a threadbare rug, and when he’s close enough to touch, the heady scent of _wanting_ rises from dark skin and sets his appetite to burning in his chest. He didn’t know it was like this, that this hunger could be so _consuming_ \- but Fai is smiling, even with a face that isn’t his, and Kurogane knows it for the reassurance it is.

“I want,” he stutters out, throat tight. His teeth are _hurting_ , a hot-cold ache that claws up and into his skull and does absolutely nothing to lessen the familiar throb low in his belly.

“It’s alright,” says Fai, still gentle, and blue eyes are heavy-lidded and glowing. “Just take what you need, now, and we’ll figure out the rest in the morning.” A heavy hand, metal firm beneath the touch of cool synthetic skin, curls about his arm a fraction too tight; Fai’s movements clumsy with a prosthetic he hasn’t had the chance to learn control of. But that strong grip is welcome and grounding, and Kurogane lets himself be reeled into warm arms that close about him with nothing but understanding.

It’s… different, feeling Fai’s chin come to rest atop his head, the tickle of messy hair against his face and the warmth of a body broader and larger than his own folding around him. It’s different. But it’s in no way _bad_.

“You don’t mind if I-?” Kurogane can’t finish the sentence, swallowing hard, and the stutter of his catching breath stops all the rest of the words before he can speak them.

“It’s alright,” Fai repeats, and the pulse in his throat throbs in time with the heartbeat roaring in Kurogane’s ears, an echo of the hunger that pounds in his chest. “Come on.” His chin tips back, throat bare in invitation.

Kurogane can’t stop himself, can’t stop the beast beneath his borrowed skin, and instinct takes over in the face of doubt: his hands curl around Fai’s face, pale fingers trembling against warm dark skin, and his mouth trails up to find that point of heat and life fluttering in the hollow of Fai’s jaw, lips parting and teeth piercing _in_ with the same heady rush that thunders through his veins during sex.

It’s much the same intimacy, Kurogane has always felt, and now he _knows_ : the taste on his tongue is too thick with flavour, too hot and salty and _rich_ to be resisted even by the strongest of wills, and the rush of warmth pouring down his throat with each slick and greedy swallow bleeds heat all through his limbs, sets the cold hollows of his bones to glowing and the ache in his trembling hands transforms to a smooth and shivering pleasure that tingles all across his skin.

It’s good. It’s so, so _good_ he’s dizzy with it.

Fai’s fingers are in his hair, warm and rough and slow where they wind through the tangling strands, and the edges of the calluses that catch and scrape over the smooth skin on the nape of what was once and still is Fai’s own neck make Kurogane shudder with the same reflexive delight he’s given Fai every time he’s done this himself.

“Nn… Kuro- _sama_.” It’s so _strange_ , to hear that moan in his own voice, to feel Fai shudder and sway heavily against him as the heat of the teeth in his throat washes over him - but Kurogane has been here before, many times, and he knows right down to his core how powerful the feeling that takes him over at the first press of Fai’s teeth is.

It’s usually enough to send them toppling right into bed, these days, as much as it used to bring them to hateful silence in Infinity; and he’d rather have Fai gasping and trembling against him as he drinks now than have it the way it used to be, with cold stares and hateful, bitter smiles.

“Enough now,” murmurs Fai, after a long moment that drifts by in slow and delicious swallows; his throat vibrates beneath the press of Kurogane’s mouth as he sighs the words. “Any more, Kuro-sama, and you’re going to have me on the floor.” The urge is to pull away suddenly, but with the sharpness of teeth in tender flesh Kurogane forces himself to still, to slow the greedy clasp of his mouth and stroke his tongue flat and wet against the wounds from his bite; gently, he disengages, easing back carefully, and when his lips part from the slope of Fai’s throat it’s with a lingering and gentle caress that could be a kiss.

(It is.)

Blue eyes are drowsy with want, languid and heady in their glowing heat, and Fai shudders slowly as he brings dark fingertips to press gently at the beading droplets that slip down his throat. “Mm… I didn’t know it made you feel like this. Was it as good for you as it was for me?” Fai rumbles, and the deep resonance of his words through Kurogane’s own voice does strange things to the warmth fluttering beneath Kurogane’s ribs, his breath coming quicker than the satisfaction of having fed so long and deeply really should account for.

“Depends,” he manages, and licks his lips, savouring the taste of life shared that melts on his tongue and the way blue eyes darken. “You always feel this good when you bite me?”

Fai watches him for a long moment, hands warm and those hot eyes thoughtful, and when next he speaks it’s with a wicked look that translates just as well against Kurogane’s sharper features. “I know you don’t remember the magic that made us like this,” he purrs, and huh, Kurogane did _not_ know his face could do that smouldering thing Fai’s doing now as he stalks them both back towards the bed. It’s really more attractive than it has right to be, considering. “But tell me,” continues Fai, using Kurogane’s own height to loom tall and dark as he edges closer. “Do you know, Kuro-sama, what one of the more… _enjoyable_ ways to reverse a body swap is?”

Kurogane can’t tell if the desire tangling his gut in sweetly aching knots is his own or Fai’s, but whoever it belongs to, it brings a shiver up his spine and a hungry edge to his smile all the same. “No, but I think I’m about to find out.”

**Author's Note:**

> We're completely ignoring the explanation for how they swapped bodies in the first place, by the way. [whistles cheerfully]
> 
> I subscribe to the theory that one's magical powers would transfer with one's identity, so in this instance, Kurogane would end up inhabiting a body with no magic but pronounced vampiric instincts, and Fai would end up in a non-magical body with his own magic, hence Kurogane's eyes turning temporarily blue. And Fai is, of course, referring to the classic theory that the easiest way to get back into your own body when a body swap happens is to get it on with whoever is currently driving it.


End file.
